Catastrophic
by nlizzette7
Summary: In which Blair is the one who breaks first. And Chuck never really did know how to play the hero. CB, one-shot. [repost] Rated T for language and dark content.


So, I wrote this as a series called _All Falls Down_ such a long time ago. I lost inspiration for it as a multi-chapter, but I recently got a request to repost it. So I cleaned it up and posted it as a rather long one-shot. Keep in mind that I wrote this when I was just starting out - so it's not very good! But anyway, I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. On a side note, I'll be updating SAS later this week, and I'll be revealing my two future CB projects for the summer!

* * *

_This love is be and end all._

_This love will be your downfall._

_This love is be and end all._

_This love will be your downfall._

Blair Waldorf was fading into oblivion. And nobody noticed. _Or nobody cared_.

She heard the sound of forks clattering, snippets of pointless conversation as she locked the bathroom door behind her. Her mother was hosting another brunch for the Basses and van der Woodsens to celebrate their looming graduation date. It was a severe form of torture. Chuck had abandoned her after the Snowflake Ball days ago, leaving her to make her own way home, stumbling in her heels to hail a taxi. And she couldn't believe how surprised she was. _He was Chuck._ She was Blair. Nothing good ever stayed with her.

Nothing stayed with her at all. Not Nate, with his golden stature and straying eye – not James, who preferred to dabble in the most twisted form of incest over being with her. She caught her reflection in the mirror, flinching. Her eyes were sunken in, and dark circles framed them like bruises. She patted down her dress, feeling her skin stretch over her ribs, tracing over her hip bones. Then she put a hand over her stomach, almost feeling the scones she'd just scarfed down resting there. She closed her eyes, shook her head. She was a dead girl walking.

"You're disgusting," she whispered to her reflection, "and I hate you."

Blair knelt down on the cold tiles, pressing her shaky hands against the edge of the sink for support. The red scratches down her arms screamed back at her, furious red lines, battle wounds. She tried not to look. She just shoved her white long sleeves down to her wrists.

She held a thin hand above her chest, but she wasn't sure that her heart was beating anymore, wasn't quite sure if she had a soul. Words had battered her down, hollowed her out, pried apart the fragile organs thumping below her skin. She was just searching for a switch in the darkness. She was just grasping for the ounce of control she has left.

And so she bowed forward in reverence to the one thing that would never fail her.

_Blair, you should really let Serena wear that dress. It fits her beautifully._

She yanked her hair through an elastic, slipping it all back.

_Blair, I slept with Serena._

She readied herself, lifting her finger to her lips.

_Rode hard and put away wet. I don't want you anymore, and I can't see why anyone else would._

Blair coughed after the release, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She sat there for a moment, feeling the emptiness in her stomach, the stale taste on her tongue. _Snap out of it, Blair. You did what you had to do. _

She got up, washing her hands meticulously. She gargled mouthwash until her eyes stung from the smell. She spat it all out, reapplied her lip gloss, tucked her hair into a headband. _It happened, but it never happened._

The plates were being cleared when she returned to the table, and everyone looked so _fucking happy _with themselves. Every seat around the gallant hardwood table was filled, every space was taken. Nobody noticed the empty chair cast off to the side.

The picture was still a picture without Blair in it.

She took her seat beside Serena, staring down at the silk tablecloth, scratching it with the nail of her pinky. People talked all around her, completely oblivious to the voices in her head, the panging in her chest. It was like drowning in a pool of glass. She could look out, but no one could see in.

"B, are you okay?" Serena whispered, nudging her with an elbow. Blair let out a breath before dragging her eyes up to look at her best friend. She took in Serena's clear blue eyes, the way her blonde hair fell in waves to her tanned shoulders. Blair scowled, feeling her food rising to her throat again.

"I'm fine."

Serena frowned back at her, placing a gentle hand on her knee. "Are you sure? You were in the bathroom for a while. If you're – "

"I'm _fine_. If you could stop digging your nails into my two-hundred dollar tights, that would be great," Blair hissed, getting up from her seat. She turned to Eleanor, who was seated at the head, laughing at a joke that surely wasn't funny. "May I be excused?" The table turned to look at her, but her eyes only fell on Chuck, the brooding, handsome boy who had stolen her heart. But of course, he hadn't known how to hold onto it. Chuck didn't even have one of his own.

And now he was frowning, scrutinizing her face, asking her a silent question.

She looked away.

"Blair, we haven't even had dessert," Eleanor said.

"I'm nothungry," Blair droned. She didn't care that she was making a scene. _Let them _talk. She didn't care about any of them.

"Eleanor, let her go," Cyrus cooed, winking at Blair. "We'll send you up a piece of pie if you want some later." At least the old man was useful for something.

Blair nodded, throwing her cloth napkin on the table and heading up the stairs.

And she could feel Chuck Bass' eyes burning a hole into her back with every step.

:::

Chuck closed his eyes as his masseuse dripped oil onto his back. He was drunk off of a bottle and a half of vodka, and in the haze he could pretend it was Blair's hand trailing down between his shoulder blades. He imagined her there, leaning over him, hair brushing his skin…

"Jesus, Chuck!" His eyes snapped open, and he saw Serena standing in his doorway, clearly disgusted. He smirked at her, making no effort to move from the massage bench.

"Welcome to the inner Bass sanctum, Sis," Chuck drawled. "If you want, she can do you too."

"You're disgusting," Serena spat.

"So I've been told."

"We need to talk," Serena said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Right. I'll pencil you in for next week," Chuck replied, closing his eyes again.

"It's about Blair," she insisted. That did the trick. His froze, eyes widening away from Serena's view, and he sat up on the bench. Casting a subtle wink at the masseuse, he waved her off.

"That's all for today, Ivanka. Thanks." The bleach blonde nodded, blowing a kiss at him before she pushed past Serena and left the room. "Don't tell me that Blair sent you over in one of her schemes to bed me." He feigned nonchalance. "It's getting exhausting."

Serena shook her head, stepping further into the room. She made sure that her skin didn't touch anything in it. She wasn't interested in catching a disease. "There's something wrong with her," she said. "And I can't help her. Not on my own."

"Are you sure this isn't just another one of her games?" Chuck asked, pouring himself another drink. Serena snatched it from his hands, just as he was about to take a sip.

"Wake up, Chuck. Blair's in trouble. And I need your help."

"Why me?" he asked, his voice faltering.

"Because you _love _her," she said. She picked up a wrinkled dress shirt from his floor and tossed it at him. "Now get dressed. Arthur's taking you to Blair's house." She spun on her heel and walked out of the room. Chuck stared down at the shirt on his lap, remembering the shadows under Blair's eyes, the way her bones pushed against her perfect skin.

He shrugged the shirt on and followed Serena out.

_Because he loved her._

:::

Blair stared up at the ceiling of her room, counting the cracks on the walls.

It was all she could do. Her mother's old pills had run out. Blair's bathroom looked like a war zone, tipped over containers and scattered bottles. There was nothing left to numb her pain. There was nothing left to make the rest go away. So she sat on her bed, pulling at her hair, wanting to scream. _Not enough not enough not enough. _She panted it like a prayer, closing her eyes as she rocked back and forth. She would go crazy in there. She would be alone, and then she would drop dead.

If she was lucky.

Blair's eyes fell on her open drawer. Her father's old lighter poked out from underneath the cover of her satin nightgowns, rusty silver glimmering under the dim light. Blair held it in her hands, feeling how cold and heavy it was against her palm. She flicked it on, captivated by the way the flame burst from nothing. _Off, on. Nothing, something. Air, fire. _

Blair held it up in front of her, feeling the heat on her face. She watched the flame dance for her, tickle her skin. She brought it closer and closer and…

"Blair, what the hell are you doing?"

Blair looked up to see Chuck standing at her doorway. Dorota scurried in behind him, looking flustered. "Ms. Blair, I am so sorry. He just barge in, and – "

"It's fine, Dorota," she said, waving her maid away. She waited until she heard footsteps pattering back down the stairs before turning to Chuck, eyeing the bowtie hanging just under his collar, untied. "What are _you _doing here, Bass?"

"I just thought I'd drop by," Chuck replied, shutting the door behind him. "But the better question remains. What are _you_ doing?" They both stared down at the closed lighter in her hand. Blair rolled her eyes at him.

"Just playing with fire," she smirked. "Isn't that one of your favorite pastimes?"

"Look," he said, coming to sit on the bed in front of her. "I'm sorry I left you at the party. Let's move on, get a drink, and you can cut the crazy bitch act."

Blair scoffed. "I know it's hard to believe, but not everything is about you, Bass. You know where the door is." She raised her arms to point to the exit, forgetting where she was, who she was with.

_Short sleeves._

Chuck stared down at the furious red scratches on her arms, feeling the air escape his lungs, run up to his head. Blair snatched her arm behind her back, but it was too late. She'd slipped.

She'd fucked it all up.

"Blair…" Chuck started. She watched his mind race. His lips parted, forming silent words. Blair sighed. _Chuck Bass was speechless. Well, look at that._

"Get out, Chuck," she whispered.

"You need help. Whatever you need…I'll be there for you," he said, scooting closer to her. But his words were robotic, unsure, as genuine concern was completely foreign to him. Blair backed away, shaking her head.

"Don't say that," she said. "Those words are for people who love each other." Blair looked at him with empty eyes, dragging her cold fingertips down his cheek. "That's not us."

"Why are you doing this?" Chuck seethed, grabbing her wrist. Blair flinched as his fingers pressed against the scars. Now it was too real. Now she was afraid.

"I want you to leave," she said. "Leave, leave_, leave_." She pushed at his chest with each word, repeating it over and over again. Chuck backed away with an arm raised, shielding himself from the blows.

"Alright. _Alright_, I'm leaving," he said. He took one last look at her as he walked through the door. "If that's what you want."

:::

That night, Blair screamed into her pillow. Her fists pounded into her bedspread as she sobbed.

It wasn't what she wanted.

Not even a little bit.

Not at all.

* * *

_Who are we to be emotional?_

_Who are we to play with hearts and throw away it all?_

_Who are we to turn each other's heads?_

_Who are we to find ourselves in other people's beds?_

"Dorota, I know that she's up there," Chuck insisted, raising his voice loud enough for it to reach the second floor of the Waldorf Penthouse.

"Mr. Chuck, she does not want to see you," Dorota said, "or anybody. Miss Blair not well."

"I _know _she's not well, Dorota," Chuck hissed. "That's why I'm here. You think letting her hide her away is going to solve her problems? Where's Eleanor?"

"She is taking second…fifth honeymoon with Mr. Cyrus in Fiji," Dorota muttered, shaking her head. "They come back until next month."

Chuck curled his fingers into fists, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "Dorota," he pleaded, "You have to let me upstairs."

"I have been Team Mr. Chuck since Miss Blair come home late with just La Perla's on and smile on her face," Dorota sighed. "But this is my job. Miss Blair insist that I call security if you come."

Chuck nodded, frowning. "Fine," he said. "But I'll be back. You can tell her that too."

Upstairs, Blair pressed her ear against her bedroom door. She closed her eyes as she listened to his retreating footsteps, the ding of the elevator, and then _silence_. Good. That was how it had to be. It was too late. Too late for heroes and dark knights and saviors. It was too late to find the real Blair Waldorf under the layers of bruises and cuts. Skin and bones. She didn't exist. Not anymore.

Blair rolled her head back, trying to steady herself. In front of her, imaginary lights danced in an intoxicated Cotillion. She brought her mother's stashed bottle of Smirnoff to her lips and drank until she only felt air against her lips. She smiled. She understood Chuck now, and all of his demented vices. It was so much easier to be this way. Year after fucking year of trying to be perfect, of holding in every insult, every bitchy one-liner, every dark, creeping thought. Looking twice in the mirror, standing beside Serena's inevitable shadow. She'd kept all of that locked away, in a chest that was much too small.

And now…now it was _bursting_.

Now she was wallowing in it. She loved the feeling of letting it all go – hurting herself because _she _wanted to. Going crazy because _she _liked it. Blair crawled forward on the floor, pressing her cheek against the carpet. Now she'd just float. Up and away until she was gone. Until there was nothing left but unworn pearls and a ghost of a girl who'd forgotten who to breathe.

_Because you can't help a damsel if she loves her distress._

But maybe it wouldn't be too bad. She smiled as she reached for her phone, trying to concentrate on the haze of buttons and numbers. Maybe she could use some help along the way. She scrolled through names until she found the one she was looking for.

"Blair Waldorf. What a surprise. A good one, as always."

"Carter," she drawled, nearly pressing her lips to the phone. "Have you missed me?"

:::

Back at his apartment, Chuck let out a shaky breath. He glanced at the cup of Scotch in his hands before pouring it down the sink. His head was crowded, screaming at him, yelling. And for once, he didn't want to silence it. He didn't want to numb the pain. How could he? All he heard was _Blair Blair Blair_.

The elevator to his floor dinged, and he turned his attention to Nate. Chuck couldn't even bring himself to offer up half a smile to his best friend. He just nodded, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

"Thanks for coming," Chuck murmured. "I know that you have your parents to worry about. I just didn't know who else to call."

Nate patted him on the back, sitting down. "Don't worry about it, man. Blair's one of my best friends. And you're…you and I are brothers. Of course I'm here." Serena strode in after him. Chuck got up to greet her before he noticed the frumpy figure shadowing behind her.

"What the _hell_ is Humphrey doing in my apartment?" Chuck spat, narrowing his eyes.

"Chuck, please. He's here with me," Serena said. "He just wants to help."

"_Help_? This isn't a scavenger hunt, Serena," Chuck hissed. "We need to get to her. We need to help her. She's my…my…" Chuck's words trailed off as his shoulders dropped in defeat. He shut his eyes and pressed his fingertips to his temples.

Nate and Serena exchanged worried glances from across the room. They'd never seen Chuck so worked up about something that didn't revolve around him. His eyes were empty, his signature smirk gone. They weren't just losing one best friend.

They were losing two.

"Should I go?" Dan whispered in Serena's ear, taken aback by his former enemy's dejected form.

"Could you?" Serena asked, patting his shoulder. "I'm sorry. This is just something that goes back to before I even met you." Dan nodded, and she gratefully kissed him on the cheek. It wasn't until he stepped into the elevators that Chuck managed to look up again.

"I don't want him involved," Chuck said. "I don't want anyone involved. This is too serious."

"_How _serious, Chuck?" Serena asked and glanced at Nate again.

"Her wrists…"Chuck whispered, his voice unintentionally cracking. He caught himself, straightening up. "It's serious."

"Maybe we should call the Ostroff Center," Serena suggested, biting her lip.

"Are you delusional, van der Woodsen?" Chuck asked, incredulous. "Last year, when you confessed to your melodramatic murder mystery, did Blair just _call the Ostroff Center_?"

"No, I just – "

"Blair has _always_ been the rock. She pulled back your hair when you were trashed off your ass. Nate, she was by your side through your father's arrest. And me…" Chuck whispered, shaking his head. "Blair saved me."

"Chuck, why didn't you tell her how you felt about her before all of this happened?" Nate asked, waving his hand in the air. "I didn't know – "

"I didn't tell her because I'm _Chuck Bass_," he scoffed. He paused for a moment, remembering Blair's face at the all-white party, the way she flinched when he couldn't say _it_. "But I wouldn't be without her."

"Okay," Serena said, nodding. "We just have to get to her. She might've left the apartment and had Dorota cover for her. That's how we used to sneak out when we were kids."

"Then where could she be?" Nate asked, scratching his head. Suddenly, Chuck's phone vibrated in his pocket. Nate's lit up on the table. Serena's chimed from her purse. Which could only mean –

**Spotted: ****_B's _****less than humble abode looking a little over capacity. We all know that the Upper East Side is nothing without a Waldorf party. Question is, where's the rest of the fearsome foursome? Look's like she's taking a walk on the wild side and leaving the rest behind.**

Chuck frowned, staring down at the picture on his phone. People crowded around Blair's penthouse, glasses were shattered on the floor. It was mayhem.

"I guess we have our answer."

:::

"Out of my way," Chuck yelled over the music, pushing past a group of drunk and bearded kids crowding around Blair's foyer. They giggled and moved aside, too drunken to even register what was happening.

"Jesus," Nate muttered, looking around.

"Chuck, you have to find Blair," Serena said. "Nate and I will try to get them all to leave." Chuck nodded, pushing his way into the crowd. He scanned the room for Blair, careful to step over the remnants of shattered Waldorf family heirlooms that were strewn across the hardwood. He made his way upstairs, glad to see that only a few stray bohemian losers were hanging around up there. He crossed the hall and didn't even bother knocking before opening the door to Blair's room.

He stopped in his tracks, feeling his chest rise to his throat.

Blair was lying on her bed, clad only in a black bra and panties as Cater _fucking _Baizen pressed his lips to her stomach, making his way even lower. Chuck didn't even think before grabbing Carter's shoulder, shoving him into the wall, seeing a wall of red in his line of vision. He punched him straight in the gut, waiting for the sickening crunch of bone. And then again. Until Carter slumped against the wall, clutching at his side. It was then that Chuck turned to Blair, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. His eyes met dead ones.

"Glad you could make it, Bass," Blair slurred, smirking. "Although…I'm not sure I remember inviting you."

"What the hell is this, Blair?" Chuck asked, sitting her up. Blair just laughed, throwing herself back on the bed.

"Are you blind? It's a party. You should be well-versed in this setting," she giggled. She took his hand and placed it on her thigh, sliding it up her skin. "Care to join us?" Chuck closed his eyes, snatching his hand away.

"Stop it," he hissed.

"No. _You _stop," she said, glaring at him. "I told you to leave me alone. I _told _you to stop trying to play the hero." Chuck shook his head. He couldn't get through to her. He couldn't – He had to try something else.

"Well, I expected more from you," he said.

"What are you talking about, Chuck?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Try speaking a language other than asshole."

"I didn't think Blair Waldorf would be the type to throw tasteless house parties," Chuck said, looking around. "Guess you've lost your class along with your mind.

"Hm, you get an A for effort," Blair said. "That would've worked if I was still the old Blair."

"And who are you now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She was so full of shit.

"Let's find out, shall we?" she said, grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels from her nightstand. Chuck snatched it out of her hands before she could press it to her lips, and she frowned.

"Jesus," she said, sobering up. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Why do you even care?"

"Because," Chuck said, taking a shallow breath, dragging air in through wavering lips. His eyes met hers, and he refused to look away. Because I love you." Behind him, Chuck heard the familiar sound of Carter's chuckling. He ignored it, keeping his eyes on Blair. She flinched, her eyes widening. He thought her saw her face soften for a moment. Maybe she was waking the fuck up. Maybe she would –

"Well," she whispered as her expression hardened again. "That's just too bad."

* * *

_Dead inside – my heart and soul flatline._

_Put your mouth on mine and bring me back to life._

_Dead inside, no other satisfies._

_Take my life, save me from this death inside._

_Because I love you._

Blair closed her eyes, desperately clinging onto Chuck's voice as another wave of pain forced its way into her head. She flinched, never one to handle a hangover. It was too much. It hurt too much.

_Because I love you._

A gunshot.

The apocalypse.

She could see the pain in his eyes when she'd rejected him, the way his lips had turned down, the way he'd walked out of her bedroom without looking back. She was ruining Chuck Bass. She could _feel _it.

And the only way to save him was to stay away.

_Because I love you_.

Beside her, Carter snored lightly against the pillow. She stared at the way his light brown hair caught the light, at his perfect jaw. He was beautiful. He was mind-numbing fun, nothing she was used to. In Carter, she could escape. With Carter, she wasn't afraid to disappear.

But he didn't know that she was obsessed with Audrey Hepburn. Or that she only drank because cocktails made her look more sophisticated. Or even the order of her favorite movies. He didn't really know her at all.

But he didn't have to. She wasn't any of those things anymore. With Carter, she could be _nobody_. All of those years of being completely and utterly exposed by Gossip Girl. All of those years of being followed around and judged by her minions. All of those years of being compared to _fucking _Serena.

That was over. Now, Blair Waldorf was anonymous.

"Good morning, beautiful," Carter whispered, blinking awake. Blair flinched as the smell of hard liquor rolled off his breath. She glanced at him, wondering how he could just _self-destruct _so easily and take everyone down with him.

She wondered how he could just move through days, shove past memories like they were nothing. Because Blair certainly couldn't.

She closed her eyes. _Because I love you_.

"Morning," she whispered back, lifting her lips into a small smile. Immediately, he grabbed her hips, pulling himself on top of her, crushing her under his weight. He dove into her neck, biting at her skin, making her cry out in pain.

Blair struggled to pull away from him, gasping for breath.

"Carter, wait," she whispered, flinching.

"For what?" he laughed, gripping her arms to keep her still.

"I just…I can't breathe," she said, finally managing to push him away. "I'm sorry…I'm just not feeling well after yesterday."

Unfazed, Carter smirked at her and reached for something on the table beside him. He lifted a small pill bottle, shaking it in front of her before slipping a white tab into his palm. "Okay then," he said, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. "How about a little pick-me-up?" Blair stared at the pill pinched between his fingers and tried to swallow back the lump in her throat.

"I really don't want to – " Carter gripped her face, fingers digging into her cheeks to shut her up. Blair thought her heart would pang out of her chest. She was afraid. She was so _afraid_. If only the old Queen B could see her now.

"I thought you wanted to be with me, Blair," Carter said. The mischievous glint in his eyes darkened, and he frowned down at her. "I thought you trusted me." Blair felt her cheeks bruising as she let out a small whimper.

"Fine, I'll take it," she spat. "Just let me go." Carter grinned, obviously satisfied with himself. Instead of releasing her, he held her face even firmer as he slipped the pill into her mouth. Blair closed her eyes, swallowing it dry.

"Good girl," he whispered, taking a pill of his own. Blair felt the rush to her brain, like something was scratching at her skin, pulling her somewhere else. But instead of floating up, she came crashing down.

Instead of seeing stars, she only saw Chuck Bass.

_Because I love you._

_Because I love – _

_Because – _

:::

"I told her that I loved her," Chuck said, handing a cup of coffee to Serena. They were having breakfast in their kitchen, up too early to be interrupted by their parents.

"You did?" Serena gasped. "Chuck, that's…that's great."

"She clearly didn't think so," Chuck replied. He gripped the cup in his own hands tighter, remembering Carter's lips on Blair's skin.

"I'm so sorry," Serena murmured. "But Chuck, you and I both know that she loves you too. It's just…"

"Not enough," Chuck finished.

"Chuck…"

"Something's not right," Chuck said, waving away his rejection. "I don't like the way she was with Carter. It's like she's forgetting herself."

"She hasn't been to school in a week," Serena added, slumping in her seat. "Eleanor should know."

"Eleanor will only make things worse," Chuck said. "I can handle this. I just need to get her to wake up in time for her meeting with the Yale advisors. She'll never forgive herself if she snaps out of this and finds out she didn't get in."

Serena nodded, glancing up at him. "The way you love her," Serena said. "I didn't think you were capable of that."

A pause. "Neither did I," Chuck replied. They stopped talking when they heard footsteps descending the steps. Bart Bass tugged on his suit jacket as he walked towards them.

"Good morning, kids," he smirked, glancing from Chuck to Serena.

"I suddenly have somewhere else to be," Serena groaned, frowning at Bart. "Call me later, Chuck."

"I'm glad to see that you kids are getting along well," Bart said, fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chuck nearly laughed. Of course Blair would find another way to help him, building a relationship between him and Serena, when she wasn't even trying.

"Yeah, it's great," Chuck agreed, pulling out his phone. He refreshed the Gossip Girl page for the fifth time that day, checking for any news of Blair. Nothing. Blair Waldorf was officially off the radar. He never thought he'd see the day.

"So I'll be expecting you to sit in on the board meeting today," Bart said, glancing at his son. "It's imperative that you be there if you want a chance at working for me after graduation." Chuck exhaled, gripping the phone tighter. He'd planned to try Carter's apartment today. He didn't have time to fail his father's pathetic expectations once again.

"I can't," Chuck said. "I have other obligations."

"Is this about the Waldorf girl?" Bart asked, his voice growing cold.

"Don't tell me you read Gossip Girl," Chuck smirked. "That would just make my day."

"Charles, does it look like I'm joking?" Bart spat, slamming his mug down on the table. _No, Dad. It never does. _"Love is for the weak."

"You've called me worse," Chuck shrugged, standing up. "I'm not going to be like you. You _let _my mother die."

"I did no such thing."

"If that helps you sleep at night, fine," Chuck said, turning to walk away.

"You walk away from me now, you walk away from your future," Bart called out.

"No," Chuck said, clutching his phone. "My future is waiting for me as we speak."

:::

That night, Blair crossed her arms over her chest, shivering against the cold air, tracing over her own goose bumps. She stared up at The Palace, wondering how she'd even ended up there. She was wearing a black slip and her favorite stockings, but nothing else in the dead of winter. She only remembered slipping away from Carter for one second at some party they'd been to.

_"I'll be right back, I promise."_

_His fingers gripped her, clawing at her skin, twisting her arm. "Don't be gone for too long, Waldorf."_

She remembered having no money. _Blair Waldorf _with no money. No cell phone. Nothing.

_"You don't need your friends, Blair," Carter laughed. "You don't need anyone but me."_

She remembered a voice, pulling her down the streets, a string of memories that made her hold on to the bit of sanity that she had left. _You looked amazing up there. In the face of true love, you don't give up. Don't leave with him. I'll say anything. Three words eight letters._

_Three words._

_Eight letters._

_Because I love you._

Blair walked into the quiet lobby, her heels tottering against the clean tiles. She took the elevator to Chuck's floor, let herself into his apartment as she used to. It was dark and quiet, but it smelled like _him_. Cologne and smoke and everything that Blair wanted. She closed her eyes and inhaled, waiting. This was home.

:::

Chuck dragged his feet against the concrete, stumbling into The Palace. Hours and hours of looking for Blair had amounted to absolutely nothing. He stopped at the concierge, glancing at the man with tired eyes.

"Clear the bar early tonight," he murmured. "I've had a long day."

"Mr. Bass, you have a visitor in your apartment," he replied. "Ms. Waldorf has been waiting there for about four hours."

Chuck nearly flew up the elevator shaft.

When he got to his floor, he walked into a silent apartment, stumbling into thick darkness. He almost wondered if the concierge had been mistaken before he caught a figure shift in the darkness. Blair stared at him, crouched on the edge of his bed. He took in her swollen lips, the bruises on her cheeks, the rips in her stockings.

And gravity brought him down to his knees in front of her.

No, not gravity. It was Blair. It was only Blair.

Chuck felt a sting behind his eyes, a feeling he barely recognized, before the tear came. Only one escaped before he managed to blink the rest away. "Blair – " he started, but his voice cracked on her name. He hesitated before he reached for her hands, bony and fragile in her lap.

"I'm lost," she whispered, not taking her eyes off of him. "I'm lost, Chuck." This time, he pulled her onto the floor with him, wrapping his arms around her, holding on for dear life. He dug his face into her neck as she folded into him, and he sobbed into her skin. Tearless, agonizing sobs, as she went limp in his arms.

_Love is for the weak._

But Blair was his anchor.

"It's okay," he whispered, "It's going to be okay."

Only Blair could bring him to the ground like this, pull him back to the harsh reality he'd always worked so hard to avoid. Only Blair could make him need something other than himself.

And it scared the shit out of him.

:::

Blair flinched away from the arms wrapped around her when she woke up. All she could think was _Carter. _Bruises and pain and fear.

And then she remembered.

_Not Carter._

She glanced at Chuck, his face only a breath away, his arm hugging her tightly against him. They'd fallen asleep on the floor that way. She'd spent the night there. And she hated herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to his sleeping form. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

She couldn't be there. Chuck wasn't like Carter. Chuck wasn't like anybody else. Without him, Blair was free to shatter her old self. Blair could destroy and hurt and _die_, for all anyone cared.

But Chuck wouldn't let her.

They held onto each other, collided like magnets.

One couldn't fall without the other, and it was only a matter of time before Chuck came down with her. Blair took one last look at him before pressing a light kiss to his lips. _The last kiss._ It had to be the last kiss. She rolled out from under his arm and pulled on her shoes, tiptoeing to the door without looking back.

_It would be as if she was never there._

:::

"Miss Blair, you come back," Dorota practically shrieked, clasping her hands together. She took Blair's arms, holding her up as she stumbled into the apartment. Blair groaned, sinking into her maid's arms.

"Dorota," she whispered. "I don't feel so well."

"It's okay, Ms. Blair," Dorota replied. "You're home. I take care of you now." Blair nodded, closing her eyes as she was led up the stairs. Dorota pushed her gently into her bathroom, sitting her down on the edge of the tub as she ran the water. Blair watched it rise, biting her lip. Dorota pulled Blair out of her dirty dress and put her in the tub, filling it with Blair's favorite bath oils. Blair ran her fingers over her skin, closing her eyes as the heat rose.

"It's okay now, Miss Blair," Dorota said. "It get better soon." Blair watched Dorota, the kindness in her eyes, almost seeing through to the unconditional love in her heart. Blair wished she was like her. Uncomplicated.

Maybe then she and Chuck would have a chance.

Dorota stood to give Blair her privacy, but Blair stopped her with a wet hand on her arm. "Thank you," she whispered. Dorota nodded, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before leaving the room. Blair touched the spot she'd kissed, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She tried to swallow it back, but the tears came anyway. Horrible sobs escaped her throat, so strong that they hurt her chest. She sank deeper into the water, until the rest of the world was below the surface.

:::

"Mr. Chuck," Dorota breathed, her voice in a low hush. Chuck frowned. She wasn't the unknown caller he was expecting when he'd picked up his phone.

"What do you need, Dorota?" he asked, trying to hear her over the music. He was at Victrola – a big roadblock in trying to get over Blair.

Because she was everywhere. Even now, he could imagine her on stage, that coy smile setting the room aflame. He could feel her soft breath on his cheek. And when she danced that night – He could never escape that.

"Miss Blair come home," Dorota said. "She came back." Chuck nearly dropped the glass in his hand. He stood up and walked to the exit, finding a quiet place to stand.

"Is she okay?" he asked, trying to stop his voice from wavering.

"I don't know," she replied. "In eighteen years I have never seen Miss Blair this way. You have to come help her."

Chuck shook his head, sliding his hand down his face. "She doesn't want me there. She doesn't want me at all."

"No. She doesn't want you here," Dorota agreed. "But she need _you_, Mr. Chuck. And that is more important."

:::

Blair's room was quiet when Chuck walked in, eerily dark and cold. He braced himself, not knowing what version of her he was going to get today. But when he saw her, she was tucked into bed, under her covers, watching an Audrey Hepburn movie on the television. Her hair fell in beautiful waves, and she looked incredibly small in her blue robe. He knocked on the wall behind him, and it startled her.

"You came back," she stated.

He nodded, sitting at the edge of her bed. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?" He glanced at her swollen eyes.

Blair rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Bass."

"Where's Baizen?" he asked.

Blair shook her head, training her eyes on the screen again. "I don't know."

"You have to stop this," he said. "Don't be like me. I don't know what to do…" _You were always the one saving me. _But she ignored him, kept her eyes on the screen. He almost thought she was done with him again before she parted her lips to say something.

"This isn't you either, Chuck," Blair said. "_You_ left me on that helipad. _You_ said so many horrible things to me after Nate found out about us. You don't get to do all of that and then come here to play the hero."

"I'm trying to change," Chuck pleaded, flinching at the blatant desperation in his own voice. He shifted closer to her on the bed, pressing his leg against her covered ones. "I'm not the same kid I was last year."

Blair scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Really, Chuck? And when was the last time you slept with one of your hotel skanks? Yesterday? This morning?"

Chuck flinched, saying nothing.

"Exactly," Blair continued. "As you can see, I'm still alive. I don't need your help or anyone else's. So just go."

"No," Chuck replied. It was so simple, so automatic, that it startled Blair. She glanced at him in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated, moving even closer to her. This time, he put a hand on her waist, spoke against her lips. "You can feel it. What we are. What we can be. Those girls mean nothing compared to this."

"You can't save me."

"I can love you."

Blair's lashes cast shadows down her cheeks when she looked up at him. "Say it again."

"I love you." Blair shut her eyes, unable to pull away. "I love you." She pressed her lips against his, softly at first, tasting the sweetness of his skin. "I _love _you." And then she kissed him again, hands snaking up to grip his arms, the nape of his neck. A gasp escaped from Chuck's throat as she pulled him down with her. He tried to lift himself up, tried to give her more space, but she shook her head, pressing harder. Holding tighter.

"Don't," she whispered between broken pants. "All of you."

Chuck nodded, understanding completely. He moved against her, watching her eyes roll back, her teeth sinking into her lip. He was captivated by the _rawness _of this Blair. It was the Blair from Victrola, the Blair that had torn him apart, set his blood in motion, rearranged the shreds and slants of his unpromising future. He groaned as she ran her nails down the nape of his neck, down to his back. And then the only sounds were their gasps for breath, the shedding of clothes, the desperation anchoring them together.

And for a moment, they could almost forget that nights like this couldn't last forever.

But they had right then, right there.

For a moment, Blair forgot to be nothing. And words tumbled from her lips as her clothes fell to the floor.

A gunshot.

The apocalypse.

"I love you, too."

_Fin._


End file.
